


Fever Pitch

by l57371



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l57371/pseuds/l57371
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorne had never yet lost a man in Pegasus and he wasn’t about to start now, not for the damned Pegasus equivalent of the Ellcrys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever Pitch

David Parrish sat, huddled dejectedly, on the thin mattress covering the rusting springs of the single cot bed, his back pressed against the cold, damp stone wall. His long arms were wrapped around his shins, pressing his thighs to his ribs to ease the sharp stabs of pain coming from the broken ends. His breath rattled in his chest and a cold sweat inched its way down his forehead and over his temples. He tried to breathe deeply but choked as he exhaled, coughing and spitting the hot, slimy phlegm on the dirt floor. He shut his eyes and let his head roll back, knocking lightly as it came to rest against the wall of his prison, soon to be tomb.

* * *

“And when you noticed he was missing, what did you do, Major?” Doctor Elizabeth Weir’s voice was even, her tone reasonable and free of accusation. She was sitting at the head of the conference table, directly facing him, with Sheppard and McKay at her side.

Major Evan Lorne pressed his lips together and shut his eyes briefly, dropping his chin and breathing evenly in and out through his nose. There was nothing to be gained by shouting at his mission commander; he had to get through this calmly and quickly and get on with the damned rescue as soon as possible, and the best way to do that was to give his report like the professional he was. He opened his eyes.

“We backtracked through the village to where the path petered out. I knew he had been talking to that priestess, that...” He glanced quickly at his CO, looking for a prompt.

“Krissel, I think it was, wasn’t it, Rodney?” Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard supplied, with a quick look to his left seeking confirmation.

“Um, sure? I don’t know. Why are you asking me?” Dr. McKay answered, sparing him a glance from his data pad and then darting his eyes quickly to Major Lorne, then down again. “That sounds right, anyway.”

“Krissel, yeah.” Lorne dropped his gaze to his hands twisting in his lap, and then looked up again, taking in the concerned glances of his superiors. “I knew he had been talking to her about some sacred tree of theirs that was showing signs of dying. There was an argument between the priestess and some of the guards. She wanted him to see the tree and they said he couldn’t. The argument stopped so I thought they had gone somewhere else, and the crowd was too thick to see through by that time. I could still see Dav- Dr. Parrish then. The head man was talking to me about those almost-goats they have and they were asking about trading some of those for some harvest help this fall, and then when I turned around again, Dr. Parrish was ... was gone.”

“Did you hear a scuffle or anything?” Sheppard asked, eyebrows drawing together as he leaned forward.

“No, nothing. Nobody even grunted. We tried to ask the headman what was going on but he just kept waving his hands and going back to the goats. Finally I just ... I had to leave Watts and Sorder there to keep trying to get through to him and I came back to report. I think we need...” Lorne’s voice trailed off.

Sheppard picked it up. “To get some muscle in there to ask more questions. Absolutely right, Major.” He flicked his gaze to Weir.

She took a breath and nodded. “Yes, you have a go. Go, get our botanist back.” She rose gracefully and placed both hands deliberately on the table, flat and steady. “But try to keep the peace as well, okay? We could really use the goats.”

Sheppard looked mildly offended. “Of course we will, Elizabeth. No problem, we won’t level any villages we don’t have to. Promise.”

Weir shut her eyes and sighed. Lorne practically ran from the room.

* * *

“ _I know you can help her,” the priestess had whispered, “I know you have the knowledge that will save her.” She had sounded so sure of herself that Parrish had no worries about defying the orders of the angry guards around them and climbing over the low fence to approach the tree. It was very old, that much was obvious even from behind the retaining fence, from the gnarled bark to the trunk thicker than five men standing shoulder to shoulder to the moss hanging from its branches. The priestess had gone on at length in strained whispers about how the tree was sacred, both protected and protector. They believed that the tree kept them free from the Wraith. As long as the tree stood, they had been free from culling. Parrish agreed to the priestess’ urgent pleas to see what he could do for the tree._

_Breaking away from the team, Parrish had followed the priestess back through the village and down a long winding path to a fenced off area and, on her urging, stepped over the low fence and approached the tree._

_Parrish only had a few minutes to examine it, placing his hands reverently on the antique bark and drilling carefully into the trunk with his pocket knife. Suddenly he felt a sharp stab of pain in his shoulder and then another in his thigh. He whirled quickly around to find the guards pointing their dart throwers at him and two darts already on the ground before him. His vision began to swim._

“ _You were told to stay away from the sacred Hawandai,” the guard shouted from behind the low fence. “It’s sacrilege for you to touch her. It’s death for you to deface her.” Parrish sunk slowly to his knees as the priestess rushed to his side._

“ _I can’t save her. Nobody can save her,” he gasped, his eyesight blackening and narrowing to a small circle directly in front of him, the priestess’ face swimming and morphing. “It’s just old age, you can’t stop it.” His eyes closed._

* * * 

Hastily Lorne pushed new ammunition clips into the pockets of his vest. This would be the fifth rescue mission through the gate in as many days, back to that same damned planet, back to that same damned head man who smiled widely and told them absolutely nothing. Lorne knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that there had to be a hidden prison somewhere, underground or in the back of a building they hadn’t been allowed into or maybe in the caves of the mountains that the village nestled into the foot of. Parrish was there, he had to be. For five days they had searched. They hadn’t found or been presented with a body, therefore he had to be alive. He had to be. Lorne had never yet lost a man in Pegasus and he wasn’t about to start now, not for the damned Pegasus equivalent of the Ellcrys.

* * *

The gate whooshed open and the search party came through again, just as they had for the two days previous: Sheppard and Lorne in front, Dr. McKay in the middle and Teyla and Ronon bringing up the rear. This time McKay had a life-signs detector that was attached to a satchel over his shoulder. He and his team had worked through the night adding components and power modules and extra crystals and about a hundred other things Lorne had heard explained and then completely ignored. It was better, it was stronger, it was faster and it could read further, and that was all he needed to know. Immediately the little group headed off down the path to the village.

Sheppard’s voice came floating on the wind to Lorne’s ears. “Relax, Major, we will find him and we will bring him home again.” Lorne looked quickly at his CO and then went back to scanning the surrounding countryside. “He’s not lost yet, just ... temporarily misplaced.” Lorne nodded sharply, not trusting his voice to a reply, and continued gazing around him. They would find Parrish. He would find Parrish, and when he did, he’d never let the man go again.

“Sheppard! Major!” Dr. McKay’s excited voice brought everyone to a quick halt as he slowly spun in place with the life-signs detector held in front of him. Finally he stopped and pointed off toward the foot of the mountains. “Three life signs. About a mile that way.” He looked up and over to Sheppard.

“We didn’t get over there when we were here first. We stayed on the path until we got to the village. I don’t know what’s there,” Lorne said quickly. Sheppard nodded, taking in the information coming at him from different directions.

“Okay, I say we check it out, then.” He glanced around at his team as they took up their positions again and headed off resolutely through the field toward the mountains.

* * * 

Parrish panted, quickly breathing in and out at the very top of his lungs, trying desperately to get enough oxygen. Every time he tried to breathe more deeply his chest rattled and heaved with the effort of expelling the viscous fluid quickly building up there. It made getting a real breath impossible, and between that and the stabbing pain that shot through him every time the broken ends of his ribs rubbed together, he was getting light headed and dizzy.

He took as deep a breath as he could manage. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the empty room, his voice sounding strangled in his own ears. “I’m sorry, Major, I didn’t even see it coming. All I wanted was to see the tree.” He broke off, coughing again. When his chest stopped spasming, he closed his eyes and conjured up the image of Major Lorne in his mind, thinking longingly of the man’s wide shoulders, his strong muscles, his bright, beautiful smile. Not even fantasy could console him this time though. He spoke again to the vision in his head as he would never be able to in real life. “I’m sorry, Major. I didn’t remember what you told me, I didn’t think to stay with the team.” More than anything, all he wanted was to see Major Lorne -- Evan -- come for him and take him home again.

Slowly he let himself fall sideways onto the thin, hard mattress. He wrapped his arms around his chest and curled himself into a ball of cold misery. “Evan, I’m so sorry.”

* * * 

Still a few hundred yards from the entrance to the caves eroded from the side of the mountain, Sheppard held up a closed fist and gestured silently to Lorne and Ronon, motioning Lorne to his left and Ronon to his right. Without a sound they approached the mouth of the cave, eyes squinting against the darkness and weapons held at the ready. McKay trailed behind, eyes glued to the life signs detector. Teyla remained behind, watching their backs and guarding the entrance.

McKay reached forward to tap Sheppard on the sleeve and show him the life signs detector. Sheppard nodded and motioned Ronon and Lorne to the other side of the cave, indicating with his fingers that there was one person just around the bend of the cavern and two more deeper within. Ronon merely bared his teeth and lunged around the corner. Lorne looked at Sheppard with his eyes wide open but Sheppard only shook his head and rolled his eyes. Ronon returned with a grin and a guard held by the scruff of his neck, a pistol to his head. Lorne marveled at the silence with which the big man moved.

Sheppard jerked his head toward the entrance to the cave and Ronon dragged the guard outside, shoving him roughly to the dirt. “How many more?” Ronon growled.

The guard remained silent, glaring. The whine of Ronon’s pistol charging up loosened his tongue. “J-, just me and one other and the prisoner,” he stuttered, eyes riveted on the mouth of the blaster.

Narrowing his eyes, Ronon turned to go back into the cave. Sheppard stopped him with a hand to his chest. “You stay with this one, Lorne and I can handle one guard between us. Teyla, maybe you should go radio Atlantis for a medical team to meet us in the gateroom.” Teyla nodded and started quickly back to the path. Ronon bared his teeth but did as he was asked.

“Major,” Sheppard said, “after you.” Lorne nodded, tight-lipped, and carefully stepped back into the cave. Sheppard followed and McKay fell into step again at the rear.

A quick look at the life signs detector showed the other two life forms about five hundred meters inside. Quickly they made their way through hollowed out caverns that had been buttressed and reinforced along their natural lines. Finally they came to a small room and the other guard, who was lounging lazily against a wall, eyes closed and completely unprepared when Sheppard shoved the P90 into his belly. The guard’s eyes snapped open and he drew a breath to shout.

“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Besides, we already have your friend. And since you have our friend, I figure we should make a trade. Major?” Sheppard drawled, but Lorne was already making his way through the small room and into the one beyond, a ring of keys in his hand that he had liberated from a hook on the wall. Frantically he shone his light into the cells along both sides of the stone corridor until the last one on the right showed a lump at the back.

“Parrish?” he whispered, his voice catching on the lump in his throat. He cleared it and tried again. “Dr. Parrish?” The lump flinched slightly. “David? David, answer me!” Lorne cried, struggling with the rusty lock on the cell gate.

Coughing, ragged and wet, but still no answer. Lorne continued to fumble with the keys, slotting one, then another, then another into the locking mechanism until he finally found the one that freed the door. He threw himself into the room and approached the mound on the bed, touching carefully what he hoped was a shoulder.

“David,” he whispered, feeling over the blanket, trying to orient himself to the body under it. “David, it’s me, Lo... Evan. It’s Evan. Can you hear me?”

A low groan, and the harsh rasp of breath bubbling and sucking in failing lungs. Panic seized Lorne’s stomach and his heart clenched. Too late, we’re too late!

“Evan?” A whisper, and if Lorne had not been holding his breath, he’d have missed it.

“Yes, David, it’s me, it’s Evan.” Lorne pulled at the ratty blanket, exposing Parrish’s shivering body to the damp, dank air. “We’re going to get you home now. We’re getting you out.” He hauled Parrish’s unresisting body against his, upright for the first time in days, and Parrish was lost again to a fit of coughing. Lorne held him while his body was wracked with painful spasms until they subsided. “Can you walk at all?”

Parrish pushed feebly against Lorne’s chest and attempted to haul himself to a stand, and Lorne caught him when he sagged as his legs folded under him.

“Okay, that’s a no. No problem, I’ve got you.” He took Parrish’s left arm and held it over his own shoulders with his own left hand and threaded his right around Parrish’s waist. Dimly he registered the sharp feel of ribs with no padding and a hip bone against his own. He pulled Parrish snugly against his own body but nearly let go when Parrish let out a whimper and tried to cringe away from Lorne’s arm.

Lorne recognized the telltale reaction of a person with broken ribs and swore softly to himself. He repositioned his right arm lower down and instead grabbed onto the waistband of Parrish’s BDU pants, using that for grip in place of the man’s own body. “Okay, steady now, here we go.”

Parrish either couldn’t or wouldn’t walk, and Lorne had to practically drag him out of his cell and back to where Sheppard was waiting, gun still pointing at the guard.

Sheppard flicked his gaze over and took in the sight of Major Lorne half carrying, half dragging the sick and emaciated scientist through the room. His finger tightened on the trigger just a hair, but enough that the guard could see it. The guard’s eyes widened and he shrank back against the stone wall.

Sheppard’s eyes narrowed and his mouth curled distastefully. “We’ll be going now. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t stop us. Things haven’t gotten very violent yet and we’d like to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.” His lazy drawl had become dark and a little dangerous sounding. The guard remained silent.

It took far too long to reach the mouth of the cave again. Parrish moaned softly in pain and had to stop every few steps to cough and try to catch his breath, and Lorne felt his anger and panic growing with every sound, every hacking breath. Soon both their bodies were coated in cold sweat and Lorne could feel Parrish’s raging fever even through both layers of clothes.

Ronon met them as they emerged into the sunlight, attempting to take Parrish’s weight from Lorne to relieve him.

“No, wait, careful,” Lorne wheezed, panting from the effort of having to carry most of the taller man’s weight. “I’m sure there are broken ribs on that side and his lungs are full of fluid, pneumonia or something. If we pick him up we’ll puncture a lung, and if we carry him over a shoulder he’ll drown.” Ronon grunted and backed off a little, but left his arm around the scientist’s waist, giving Lorne a rest and letting Parrish lean against him.

McKay emerged from the mouth of the cave with Sheppard on his heels. “Where’s--?” he began but broke off when he saw the first guard, seemingly unconscious, on the ground to the side of the cave.

“He tried to escape,” Ronan growled.

“Ah, of course,” McKay said, glancing at Ronon’s energy weapon. “Okay then. Shall we get this show on the road?”

“We need to figure out a way to transport Dav-- Dr. Parrish,” Lorne said. “Ribs broken, fever, lungs full of fluid, he can’t walk.”

Sheppard tapped his comm unit. “Teyla?”

“Here, John,” she replied.

“We’re gonna need the med team to come to us instead. Dr. Parrish is hurt and pretty sick.”

“I will bring them right away,” Teyla said.

Sheppard clicked the comm again. “Sheppard to Watts,” he said.

“Sorder here, Colonel, Watts is in the negotiating room with the head man,” came the reply.

“I don’t think we’ll be needing those negotiations any more, thanks anyway. Both of you meet us back at the gate as soon as possible.” Sheppard’s eyes were unfocused and distant, but his lips were a thin line and expression face was stormy.

There was a pause, then, “Can I ask why, Colonel?”

“Because they were going to let our botanist die rather than tell us where he was. We don’t need goats that badly,” Sheppard ground out.

“Oh. Of course. That’s ... Thank god you found him,” Sorder’s voice was subdued and a little thick. “We’ll see you there.”

Sheppard turned back to the group. “Teyla and the med team will be here soon so we’ll just sit tight until they come.” He moved to the mouth of the cavern and settled onto the ground, keeping his P90 trained on the inside. McKay sat down beside him with the life signs detector.

Lorne looked around for a tree he could sit up against and found one a few steps away. He motioned to Ronon and between them they moved Parrish over to the tree. Lorne sat down first and Ronon gently lowered the scientist to the ground between Lorne’s legs. Lorne wrapped his arms around Parrish’s waist and pulled him back against his chest, settling his arms around the semi-conscious man’s waist and keeping him upright and immobile.

“Ronon,” Lorne rasped quietly, “can you find something to cover him with? He’s still shivering.” Ronon nodded and strode quickly to McKay and Sheppard, said a few words and then waited while McKay fished in the pockets of his vest. He returned a minute later with a silver emergency blanket and tucked it in around Parrish’s quaking body. Lorne smiled his thanks, and Ronon nodded again and sat down a few meters away, watching intently for the rescue team.

Parrish shook through another coughing fit and Lorne tightened his arms over the broken ribs, hoping to keep them in place enough to keep from hurting any more. Finally the spasm passed and Lorne released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Parrish turned his head slightly and whispered, soft and harsh at the same time, “Evan.”

“I’m here, David,” Lorne whispered. “The med team’s on the way, we’re going to get you home and you’re going to be okay, I promise.” He glanced up to McKay and his CO, but they were not looking and, as far as Lorne could tell, not listening. Even Ronon kept his eyes averted. “I promise you’ll be okay, David, just stay with me.”

“Evan,” Parrish whispered again. “S’ry... ‘M s’ry...”

“Sh, David, it’s okay, it’ll be okay.” Lorne felt his breath hitch in his chest. “Just breathe, okay? Just concentrate on breathing and --”

“Have to tell you,” Parrish’s voice was getting weaker, breathier. “Before ... t’late ... love you...” His eyes slid the last little bit shut and Lorne felt Parrish’s body sag even further.

Lorne froze. He glanced again at his companions and found them still absorbed elsewhere. He breathed in and out harshly, tightening his arms again and burying his face in Parrish’s hair. _Not too late,_ he thought fiercely. _It can’t be too late. You have to live._

* * *

Not more than fifteen minutes later the sound of a jumper reached Lorne’s ears and he looked up quickly, scanning the sky anxiously. Finally he spied it as it cleared the treetops and landed on the path a few meters from them. The back hatch lowered and Teyla emerged, followed by Beckett with a large first aid kit and two medics carrying a stretcher. Everyone converged on Lorne and Parrish.

“He has a fever I think, and he’s sweating a lot, and I think his ribs are broken, and he’s coughing a lot,” Lorne babbled quickly, trying to get everything out at once.

“It’s alright, Major,” Beckett said quietly. “He’s still breathing and his heart’s still beating, so that’s a good start.” He pulled the blanket down and cut through Parrish’s shirt with a pair of bandage scissors he fished out of the kit. Gently he probed Parrish’s abdomen with his finger tips.

“He was talking for a bit but then he lost consciousness, I don’t know if he knew what was going on or not though, and his lungs sound full of fluid,” Lorne was still talking. He didn’t think he could stop now that the adrenaline of relief was flooding his brain.

“Okay, Major, thank you,” Beckett said, sparing him a quick glance. “But I need you to be quiet now while I listen to his heart.”

“Right, quiet, sorry,” Lorne said, then pressed his lips together to prevent any more words from escaping. He waited and watched Beckett’s face while the stethoscope moved over Parrish’s chest.

“Well, he seems to have picked up a good case of pneumonia as well as the ribs, poor man.” Beckett removed the stethoscope and shoved it back into the kit, then motioned the medics over with the stretcher.

“Major, you need to let go now.” Sheppard’s voice was low and calm, and when had he moved so close, anyway? He let Sheppard remove his arms from around Parrish’s body and the medics moved in and maneuvered him to the stretcher. Efficiently they got him situated and strapped down, tucking in blankets and raising his upper body a little to ease the breathing, then picked up the stretcher and took him into the jumper.

Lorne watched them go, his body cooling rapidly where Parrish had been touching him, then turned to Sheppard who was looking at him with something like empathy in his eyes. He extended his hand to Lorne. Lorne took it and levered himself up again, slightly stiff from sitting on the ground for so long. With a last look at the mouth of the cave, McKay, Ronon, Lorne and Sheppard followed the medical men to the jumper.

* * *

Fingers in his hair, stroking softly. Lorne made a small noise of contentment in the back of his throat as he woke up, then jerked upwards a little at the pain in his back. The hand slipped away. He was still at Parrish’s bedside, sitting in the hard chair but leaning forward onto the bed. He’d pillowed his head in his arms and fallen asleep obviously. He yawned widely and peered blearily around himself, noting absently that the only other person in the infirmary was a nurse occupied at the other end of the room.

“Evan.” Parrish’s voice was rusty from disuse.

Lorne’s head whipped quickly around and he looked into Parrish’s face. His eyes were open, at least part way, and clearer than they’d been for the last few days. The glitter of fever was gone and a lucid light shone behind his eyes. The heated flush was gone from his cheeks.

“Hey,” Lorne said softly, a grin splitting his face. “Good to see you finally awake. How do you feel?”

“Mostly dead,” Parrish whispered, rasping dry sounds out of a parched throat.

“Here, let me,” Lorne quickly poured a tumbler full of water and put a straw in it, holding it to Parrish’s chapped lips. He took a few sips then turned away. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Parrish said. He flicked his gaze to Lorne’s face, then away again. “I didn’t think you would ... I mean, I never should have --”

“You didn’t think we would come for you?” Lorne asked, his brow furrowing. “You thought we wouldn’t or we couldn’t?”

“Either. Both, maybe.” Parrish fidgeted with the edge of his blanket, his eyes roaming the room but refusing to meet Lorne’s. “I shouldn’t have gone with the priestess...”

Lorne placed the tips of two fingers lightly over Parrish’s lips. “We spent five days looking for you. McKay even butchered one of his life-signs detectors so that we could widen the search.” Lorne’s voice dropped a notch and he leaned closer. “We will always come for you, David. I will always come for you.”

Parrish’s eyes snapped up to Lorne’s face, searching, finding the truth written plainly in his eyes. A smile tugged at the scientist’s lips, and Lorne found himself smiling back, his grin feeling goofy on his face. He didn’t care.

“Well now, Dr. Parrish, I see you’re back with us again!” Dr. Beckett’s voice sang across the infirmary, giving Lorne a moment to back away before the curtain was pulled back and the doctor’s cheery smile greeted Parrish. “So how are ye feeling?”

“Okay, I guess,” Parrish replied.

“Okay, he says. Considering there were three broken ribs and your lungs were nearly full of fluid from the pneumonia, I’d say okay is a marked improvement. The pneumonia’s cleared out and the ribs are well on their way to healing. Whatever that poison was has left your system. All you need to do is have something to eat and you can go home. You’ll be off duty for a while, of course, and you’ll need to take it easy for a while.” Beckett chattered away while making notations on the chart in front of him.

Lorne smiled. “I’ll go get you some soup or something from the mess and be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” he said over his shoulder as he shot out the door.

Beckett smirked at Parrish as Lorne left. “I hope he remembers to get himself some. I imagine he could do with some sleep too. He’s been here the whole time you have.” Beckett smiled again and headed back to his office as a nurse arrived to detach his IV line and the monitor wires.

Parrish smiled and looked down as a flush coloured his cheeks again, but this time it wasn’t from fever. Evan had been worried about him. Evan came looking for him. Evan saved him. Could Evan love him? What was unspoken was now spoken, and hidden was now out in the open. Now wasn’t the time for fear, it was time to be brave.

Within minutes Lorne was back with some type of broth soup and jello, both of which Parrish polished off thoroughly. Afterwards, Lorne helped him out of the bed and the two men walked back to Parrish’s quarters. The going was slow and Parrish had to stop twice to rest, his arm pressed tightly to his ribs even as the tape and bandages held the abused bones together while they healed. Lorne hovered close by his side, arms held at the ready to catch or steady as needed.

As if demonstrating Lorne’s anxiety, Parrish’s door slid open while they were still half way down the hall. Parrish turned to Lorne, surprise evident on his face, and Lorne had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I just ... You look tired, I didn’t want any delays.”

Parrish smiled again and sagged slightly against Lorne as they made their way down the hall and into Parrish’s quarters. Lorne looked around quickly, taking in the unsurprising amount of greenery and the relative neatness of the room, before slipping his arm around Parrish’s waist and guiding him firmly to the bed. He gently let the other man down onto the mattress, pulling back the covers and lifting his legs up so Parrish wouldn’t strain his ribs trying to lift them himself. Then Lorne brought a cup of water and Parrish’s toothbrush and let the other man scrub the stale taste from his mouth. He returned the items to the bathroom and brought back another glass of water to set beside the bed.

Finally Lorne could think of no more tasks to occupy his hands, and he stood beside the bed trying desperately not to fidget. “So, do you need anything else?” he finally asked.

Parrish looked up shyly through his eyelashes, twisting his fingers into his sheets. “Maybe you --” he broke off and looked away.

Lorne sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned forward earnestly. “No, what? Tell me, what do you need?”

“Could you sit with me for a while?” This time Parrish couldn’t bring himself to meet the other man’s eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” Lorne said quickly, quietly. He twisted around, looking for a chair, but the only one in the room was covered with vines from a pot on the desk that seemed to have taken over. “Well, we could share the bed, I guess.” His eyes widened as he replayed what he said and sucked in a breath. “I mean--”

“I know what you mean,” Parrish replied, looking down at his lap. “Don’t worry, Major.”

Lorne lifted his chin and jumped off his proverbial cliff. “Call me Evan.” He reached for Parrish’s hand and untangled it from the sheet, holding it softly with both of his and rubbing his thumb lightly over the other man’s palm. “You call me Evan, and maybe I can--”

“Call me David, yeah,” Parrish said, cutting him off. He tugged lightly on one of Lorne’s hand, pulling the other man closer. “Did you mean what you said?”

Lorne blinked and tried to follow the tangent. After a second, he said, “When I said I would always come for you?” He waited until Parrish met his eyes again. “Yes. Yes, I meant it.” He freed a hand from Parrish and trailed his fingers over Parrish’s cheek instead. “Did you mean what you said? Or do you remember?”

Parrish took a minute to think back, his memories fuzzy and indistinct. He was finding it hard to distinguish what had actually happened from what he had hallucinated.

Lorne tried to help him out. “After we got you out of the cell, you said you had to tell me something before it was too late.”

It hit Parrish suddenly and he not so much remembered as figured out what he must have said. He was silent for a moment longer, then squeezed Lorne’s fingers and met his eyes defiantly. “Yes, I did mean it. I’m in--” his breath hitched and his voice dropped in register. He tried again. “I’m in love with you.”

Lorne smiled. “Oh thank god,” he breathed as he leaned forward. “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Parrish smiled and tugged at Lorne’s hand again.

Shifting forward, Lorne slowly lowered himself down to where Parrish was resting against the pillows. He stopped as he felt Parrish’s breath caress his cheek, lips only a hairsbreadth from the other man, and looked into his eyes, opened wide and dark with desire. “David,” he whispered, lips brushing against Parrish’s as they moved.

“Evan,” Parrish whispered back, lifting his head just slightly and making contact.

And Lorne was lost. The feel of Parrish’s lips sliding over his own, sucking lightly on the top, then the bottom, then the top again, drove him to the brink of losing control. He shifted closer again, leaning down and pressing lightly against the other man’s chest, bringing the hand from Parrish’s cheek down and around the back of his neck, rubbing his thumb lightly behind the other man’s ear. Suddenly Parrish grunted and pulled back.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry!” Lorne cried, backing away quickly. “I forgot, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine, just...” He shifted sideways a little to give Lorne room to lie down. “Maybe just, um, mind the ribs?” He reached out and pulled Lorne to him again.

“I can do that,” Lorne breathed and kissed Parrish again. Then there was no hesitation, lips parted and tongues met in a fierce yet gentle battle, hands roamed up chests and down backs and bodies slid together. Lorne’s hand skimmed lightly over the other man’s ribs but pressed firmly on his hips, pulling Parrish’s even with his own and gasping when he felt Parrish’s hardness meet his own. He heard an answering gasp from Parrish as well.

“David,” he moaned as his hips thrust helplessly against Parrish’s.

“Yes, Evan, god, yes,” Parrish moaned back, hips rotating slightly against Lorne’s, his hand scrabbling at the button of Lorne’s pants.

The fog of lust was creeping over Lorne and he pushed blindly at the scrub pants Parrish still wore, shoving his hand down the back and grabbing Parrish’s ass when a single thought broke through. “Wait, David,” he gasped, pulling back and blinking hard. “Your ribs, your lungs, are you sure you’re...?”

“Fine, I’m fine,” Parrish rasped, tugging at Lorne’s shoulder and pulling him close again.

“No, really, hang on,” Lorne said, holding him back firmly. “I don’t think this is such a good idea right now. Your injuries are--”

“Healing,” Parrish said, putting his hand over Lorne’s mouth. “Maybe I’m not up to any acrobatics or anything, but I’m fairly sure we can still do this. I want to do this, and I want to do it now. Now take off your pants.”

Lorne burst out laughing and said, “Yes, sir,” stood up and stripped, quickly and efficiently, then kneeled on the bed and helped Parrish out of his scrubs. He lay back down beside the other man and trailed a hand over the expanse of bare skin before him. “So beautiful,” he breathed.

Parrish smiled. “I’m bruised. You’re beautiful.” He leaned forward and captured Lorne’s lips again, then grabbed Lorne’s fingers and pushed their joined hands down. He shifted his hips forward and Lorne shifted forward to meet him.

The first touch of their hard cocks together sent a bolt of electricity up Lorne’s spine, and he hissed a breath out from between clenched teeth. “Yeah,” Parrish whispered and wrapped Lorne’s hand, then his own, around both their cocks. He stroked slowly upwards, bringing Lorne’s hand with him, then slowly down. Lorne couldn’t help himself, he groaned aloud and bucked forward into their two hands. “Yeah,” Parrish whispered again. “Come on, Evan, come on.”

“Oh god, David,” Lorne gasped, lifting his left leg and wrapping it around Parrish’s thighs, managing to get even closer than before. Parrish stroked upwards again and this time ran his thumb over the head of Lorne’s dick, collecting the fluid gathering there and spreading it downward. On the next stroke up, Lorne did the same to Parrish’s, and Parrish gasped and grunted low in his chest, ignoring the jolts of pain.

Up and down their hands moved, thumbs collecting fluid and hips jerking forward until Lorne felt the slow burn of orgasm curling at the base of his spine, a white hot lick of fire burning through his body and up his limbs and into his brain until he could hold back no longer and his hips thrust raggedly forward once, twice, and he came with a strangled groan, clutching at Parrish with his leg and his right hand. He cried out as his cock spurted up and over their joined fists, painting Parrish’s belly with his come.

“Oh god, Evan,” Parrish cried and followed him over the edge, panting and gasping through his orgasm with his head on Lorne’s shoulder, face turned into Lorne’s neck, sucking and kissing at the delicate skin under his ear. Their hands slowed as the orgasm drained away, shudders randomly making their way through both men. Finally Lorne disentangled his hand and brought it up to rest on Parrish’s hip, then pushed away slightly.

“Stay here,” he whispered, then rolled himself off the bed and staggered to the bathroom, returning a moment later with one wet cloth and one dry one. He used the wet one to clean them both up, then the dry one to dry off and tossed them both back in the general direction of the bathroom.

Lorne turned back to the bed and hesitated. Parrish quirked an eyebrow at him and flipped back the covers, a clear invitation. Lorne smiled and quickly climbed back onto the bed. Parrish pulled and prodded until Lorne was on his side, back to Parrish’s front, spooned close. Laying his arm over Lorne’s waist, Parrish hauled him near.

“There, now I can’t rest my arm on my ribs.” Lorne felt Parrish’s smile on the back of his neck and his amused puff of laughter stirring the hair at the nape. “See? Useful.” Parrish’s voice was sleepy and quiet and his body relaxed against Lorne’s gradually.

“In the morning,” Lorne whispered, his eyes drifting closed, “we’re going to have a conversation about you interrupting me when I’m trying to help you.”

“Yes sir, Major Lorne, sir,” Parrish replied, drifting a kiss over Lorne’s neck. Lorne smiled and squeezed Parrish’s hand tightly in his own and fell comfortably asleep. 


End file.
